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Nipsey Hussle - Victory Lap Album Lyrics



Nipsey Hussle - Victory Lap Lyrics






Victory Lap

Woah oh, woah oh, woah oh
Like the beginning of "Mean Streets" (oh)
Like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
Like the beginning of "Mean Streets"

I'm prolific, so gifted
I'm the type that's gon' go get it, no kidding
Breaking down a Swisher in front of yo' building
Sitting on the steps feeling no feelings
Last night, it was cold killing
You gotta keep the devil in his hole, nigga
But you know how it go, nigga
I'm front line every time it's on, nigga
Hunnit proof flow, run and shoot pro
458 drop, playing Bullet Proof Soul
Every few shows I just buy some new gold
Circle got smaller, everybody can't go
Downtown diamond district, jewelers like
"Yo, Hussle holler at me, I got Cubans on the low"
Flew to Cancun, smoking Cubans on the boat
And docked at Tulum just to smoke
Look, listening to music at the Mayan Ruins
True devotion on the bluest ocean, cruising
My cultural influence even rival Lucien
I'm integrated vertically, y'all niggas blew it
They tell me, "Hussle dumb it down, you might confuse 'em"
This ain't that weirdo rap y'all motherf*ckers used to
Like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
I'm a urban legend, South Central in a certain section
Can't express how I curbed detectives
Guess it's, evidence of a divine presence
Blessings, help me out at times I seem reckless
F it, he got a L, but got an E for effort
Stretched it, dropped him off in the Mojave desert, then left him
Ain't no answer to these trick questions
Money making Nip, straighten out my jewelry on my bitch dresser
Well known, flick up and jail pose
Snatching champagne bottles from Ricos 'til T show
Whatever, nigga, we playing chess not checkers, nigga
Thirty-eight special for you clever niggas
See bro, if you ain't live and die by the street codes
Been through all these motions, up and down like a seesaw
I can never view you as my equal
F*ck I want to hear your CD for?

(Woah) like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
Like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
(Woah) like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
Like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
(Woah) like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
Like the beginning of "Mean Streets"
(We gotta make it) like the beginning of "Mean Streets"

Yeah, look
I'm finna take it there
This time around I'ma make it clear
Spoke some things into the universe and they appeared
I say it's worth it, I won't say it's fair
Find your purpose or you wasting air
F*ck it though, y'all niggas scared
Eyes opened, I can see it clear
They don't make 'em bar none
They don't make 'em real
They don't make it where I'm from
They don't take it here
They don't see in due time, I be making mil's
Bossed up in this game, I been making deals
Get your lawyer on the phone, we can make it real
I got checks and balance
I flex dramatic, other fifty on my neck, just my reckless habit
Ain't no pussy on my rep, disrespect a savage
I make one phone call and the rest get handled
This just another front step with candles
Lil' message from the set, we accept your challenge

Woah oh, woah oh, woah oh
Woah, woah
We can
Yeah we gotta
We gotta make
Oh, we gotta make it
We gotta make it
Victory Lap
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Asghedom, Stacy Barthe
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Rap Niggas

I ain't nothing like you f*cking rap niggas
Hussle man a shooter that's a fact, nigga
Thirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga
Spend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga
I ain't nothing like you f*cking rap niggas
Hussle man a shooter that's a fact, nigga
Thirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga
Spend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga

V12s in the vallet, black on black, nigga
Ese in the Valley do my tats, nigga
White boy in Manhattan, pay my tax, nigga
Drive out to the Hamptons to relax, nigga
I stopped smoking weed, then I relapse, nigga
Traveled 'round the world, then I came back, nigga
Worth a couple a million, that's a fact, nigga
But I am nothing like you f*cking rap niggas
I own all the rights to all my raps, nigga
German plates with sheepskin on my mats, nigga
Murder rate increasing if I snap, nigga
Ain't no hanging out, we take y'all off then double back, nigga
Open trust2 account deposit racks, nigga
Million dollar life insurance on my flesh, nigga
Beamer's, Benz, Bentley's or a Lex, nigga
Ferrari's and them Lambo's that's what's next, nigga

I ain't nothing like you f*cking rap niggas
Hussle man a shooter that's a fact, nigga
Thirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga
Spend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga
I ain't nothing like you f*cking rap niggas
Hussle man a shooter that's a fact, nigga
Thirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga
Spend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga

AMG Mercedes, back to back, nigga
Chopper to his face now that's a wrap, nigga
The streets talk and that's a rat nigga
Yo' P.O. call you up, look that's a trap, nigga
Beat that case that was that, nigga
Told the world look I'm back, nigga
Signed my deal, then I crack, nigga
They folded, so I left, nigga
Can't no motherf*cker tell me shit, nigga
We the No Limit of the West, nigga
Percy Miller at his best, nigga
Jigga with the Rollie and the vest, nigga
Acne jeans and Giuseppes, nigga
Serving fiends off the steps, nigga
Murder sprees for the set, nigga
All facts, ain't no mothaf*cking threat, nigga

I ain't nothing like you f*cking rap niggas
Hussle man a shooter that's a fact, nigga
Thirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga
Spend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga
I ain't nothing like you f*cking rap niggas
Hussle man a shooter that's a fact, nigga
Thirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga
Spend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Asghedom
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing






Last Time That I Checcd

Last time that I checked
It was five chains on my neck
It was no smut on my rep, last time that I checked
I was sellin' zones in the set
Make a quarter mill no sweat, last time that I checked
I'm the street's voice out west
Legendary self-made progress, last time that I checked
First get the money then respect
Then the power, and the hoes come next, last time that I checked

I been self-made from the dribble
I was been sayin' I'm a killer
Playin' no games with you niggas, pop clutch, switch lanes on you niggas
Look, I laid down the game for you niggas
Taught you how to charge more than what they pay for you niggas
Own the whole thing for you niggas
Re-invest, double up, then explained for you niggas, it gotta be love
Who run the whole city, it gotta be 'cause
This for the pieces I took off the Monopoly board
And ya'll niggas false claims, it gotta be fraud
Just keep the hood up out of your mouth, and you gotta be charged
I doubled up, tripled up, nigga what
Banged on the whole game, I ain't give a f*ck
Nobody trippin, had no business, got my digits up
And when I drop, you know I'm 'bout to f*ck the whole city up

Last time that I checked
It was five chains on my neck
It was no smut on my rep, last time that I checked
I was sellin' zones in the set
Make a quarter mill no sweat, last time that I checked
I'm the street's voice out west
Legendary self-made progress, last time that I checked
First get the money then respect
Then the power, and the hoes come next, last time that I checked

And I come through fly (check) no co-sign
I ain't need radio to do mine, I done fine
And I take my time, and take my tribe
Every level that I crossed in this game like state lines
It was visionary, either I'm genius or you niggas scary
Maybe it's both and this balance I deliver daily
For every nigga in the streets trying to feed the babies
The single mamas workin' hard not to miss a payment
And dirty money get washed on royalty statements
Black owners in this game are powerful races
Young niggas in the set that's doing it makeshift
Out the garage is how you end up in charge
It's how you end up in penthouses, end up in cars, it's how you
Start off a curb servin', end up a boss
It's how you win the whole thing and lift up a cigar
With sweat drippin' down your face 'cause the mission was hard

Last time that I checked
It was five chains on my neck
It was no smut on my rep, last time that I checked
I was sellin' zones in the set
Make a quarter mill no sweat, last time that I checked
I'm the street's voice out west
Legendary self-made progress, last time that I checked
First get the money then respect
Then the power, and the hoes come next, last time that I checked

Last time that I checked
I got the front end and the back
We on the way and that's a fact
This real, this ain't rap
Where everybody wanna act pro-black (they don't really wanna f*ck with us)
The last lie you heard, this ain't that
This that, "I done made it out the gutter" shit
Nip told you "f*ck the middle man", I told you "f*ck a bitch"
F*ck wearin' their clothes, I wear my own shit
Y'all can own ya'll label, I own my own, bitch!
Aye Nip, I remember all that game you taught me
Don't f*ck around and get played by these label owners
Talk that shit to these niggas, Adrien Broner
But secure the win though, don't let that game fold you
'Cause when this game over, it's really game over
And all they do is play the game till this game over
And you be givin' game like a big brother
Mission, never let em take it from us

Last time that I checked
It was five chains on my neck
It was no smut on my rep, last time that I checked
I was sellin' zones in the set
Make a quarter mill no sweat, last time that I checked
I'm the street's voice out west
Legendary self-made progress, last time that I checked
First get the money then respect
Then the power, and the hoes come next, last time that I checked
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Christopher Steven Brown, Ermias Joseph Asghedom, John Wesley Groover, Keenon Daquan Ray Jackson, Larrance Dopson, Michael Ray Cox
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Young Nigga

Strippers in the club and my cups half empty
Ride with my niggas cause my niggas understand me
Still on Plan A, pussy niggas on Plan B
Right now, motherf*cker let's go
Young rich nigga, young rich nigga

Yeah, what can make a nigga wanna go and get it?
Said he want a Beamer with the subs in it
Said he grew up in a house and it was love missing
Said he grew up in the set, he keep his guns with him
Young nigga, young nigga
Young nigga, just a young nigga
And he don't need a reason, he a young nigga
And you don't want your daughter and your sons with him
Young nigga, young nigga
Young nigga, just a young nigga
Probably never understand us
'Til he pull in Phantom
When he pull up in a Phantom
He gon' have that shit blasting
Like young nigga, just a young nigga
Young nigga, just a young nigga
What they call you where you from, nigga?
In my city, that was question number one, nigga
Looking at the legend I become, nigga
I can't help, but feeling like I'm the one, nigga
Remember I was on the run, nigga
Couple years before you had a son, nigga
Open up your doors and kept it one, nigga
Held a nigga down and that was love, nigga
Nobody want to stand in front a judge, nigga
Make you think of better days like when you was winning
Standing on the couches in the club with us
But then I got my shot, I had to run with it
Out the gate, lost count, many days in the studio, we slave, but this shit we gotta save
Staring in the space that you fishing for a phrase
Uninspired and your mind, still it's all a paper chase
First you over dedicate, then you notice that you great
And you been the whole time, then it slap you in the face
Then you stack it in your safe, got it cracking, it was fate
You the definition, nigga, laughing to the bank
I'm a master of my fate, plus I'm the type of nigga own the masters to my tape
I'm in Nevada for the day, I just caught a flight from Philly, we just sold out TLA
Fresh up off a stage on my way to B of A
AMB, we L.A, tryna eat, we the way
Look, young Nipsey, he the great, never talk
Had a drink, I just lead to the lake
It's eighty-something degrees in L.A
F*ck it, time to put some jetskis on L.A
Look, I got a team at my bank, I don't even need an I.D at my bank
This used to be a dream we would chase
I know J. Stone and Copy Supreme could relate
I know the whole team could relate
I know Evan Makenzi and Bron Lees could relate
Cornell, Saddam, Adam Man, DeBron, Steven Donaldson and Black Sam been on this Marathon
Balling since my brother used to hustle out the Vons
Couple hundred thousand up, he took a shovel to the lawn
No exaggeration for the content of my songs
When he went to dig it up, shit, a hundred something gone
Molded, you can ask moms
Had to plug in blow dryers for the ones we could wash
Salvaged the little bit
Young rich nigga shit, pressure on your shoulder
How you gon' deal with it?
Say it's all uncomfortable when you transition, but it's all beautiful when you get rich in it
When you start killing shit and they all witness
Money roll faster than niggas could spend the shit
Open more businesses with you and your niggas that watching your vision and being more generate
Like a Ford dealership, we up in Forbes
Watching and they wishing that it wasn't yours
I forgive you, I remember I was poor
Plus I ain't in the way of what you reaching for
Gotta play the game, you gotta read the score
See, I'ma do the same and pop the clutch of four
Told me if I want it, gotta hustle for it
Only difference now, the money more mature

Young nigga
Young nigga, young nigga
Young nigga, young nigga
Get your money, young nigga
Get your money, young nigga
Young nigga, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Keep God first though, take that
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Asghedom, Sean Combs
Copyright: Lyrics © SOAR MUSIC GROUP, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Dedication

Look, my nigga this is dedication
This is anti-hesitation
This a real nigga celebration
This a Dime Blocc declaration
Fifty-Ninth and Fifth Ave, granny house with vanilla wafers
This the remedy, the seperation
2Pac of my generation
Blue pill in the f*ckin' Matrix
Red rose in the gray pavement
Young black nigga trapped and he can't change it
Know he a genius, he just can't claim it
'Cause they left him no platforms to explain it
He frustrated so he get faded
But deep down inside he know you can't fade him
How long should I stay dedicated?
How long 'til opportunity meet preparation?
I need some real nigga reparations
Before I run up in your bank just for recreation

Dedication, hard work plus patience
The sum of all my sacrifice, I'm done waitin'
I'm done waitin', told you that I wasn't playin'
Now you hear what I been sayin', dedication
It's dedication, look

I spent my whole life thinkin' out the box
Boxin' homies three-on-one, got DP'ed but I ain't drop
Chirp on me, here I come, brrt, spin around the block
They blurped on me, said I ran a stop sign but that's a lie
I spent my whole life staring at the stage
Playin' Sega, daddy smokin' sherm, mama playin' spades
Catchin' vapors, grandma said I'd get some Jordans for my grades
That's my baby, when she died my heart broke a hundred ways
I spent my whole life tryna make it, tryna chase it
The cycle of a black man divided, tryna break it
You take a loss, shit don't cry about it, just embrace it
Minor setback for major comeback, that's my favorite
My nigga L said, "You do a song with Nip, K. Dot he a better Crip"
I said, "He a man first, you hear the words out his lips?
About flourishing from the streets to black businesses?"
Level four, y'all live and give in to false imprisonment
Listen close my nigga
It's bigger than deuces and fours my nigga
Since elementary we close my nigga
You're straight like that
I give you the game, go back to the turf and give it right back
For generations we been dealt bad hands with bad plans
Prove your dedication by hoppin' out Grand Ams
I'm at the premiere politicking with Top, Nip, and Snoop, damn
Pac watchin' the way we grew, from dedication

If it ain't congratulate then it look like hate
If it ain't congratulate then it look what Nipsey? (Hol' up)

Look, this ain't entertainment, it's for niggas on the slave ship
These songs just the spirituals, I swam against them waves with
Ended up on shore to their amazement
Now I hope the example I set's not contagious
Lock us behind gates but can't tame us
Used to be stay safe, now it's stay dangerous
'Cause ain't no point in playing defense nigga
That's why I dove off the deep end nigga
Without a life jacket
Couple mil, tour the world, dogg my life crackin'
Cook the books, bring it back so it's no taxes
Royalties, publishing, plus I own masters
I'll be damned if I slave for some white crackers
I was mappin' this out, I hit the heist backwards
Hoppin' out the eighty-five in Reebok classics
Ran a couple marathons just to get established
To make it happen, you got to have it

Dedication, hard work plus patience
The sum of all my sacrifice, I'm done waitin'
I'm done waitin', told you that I wasn't playin'
Now you hear what I been sayin', dedication
It's dedication
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alexandria Denise Dopson, Axel Albert Morgan, Ermias Joseph Asghedom, J. Lewis, John Wesley Groover, Kendrick Lamar Duckworth, Lamar Daunte Edwards, Malik Cox, Larrance Levar Dopson
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O CAPASSO, Peermusic Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Blue Laces 2

Mogul and they know that
Logo on my floor mat
Courtside Chamberlain throwback match my Rolex
Everywhere I go, flex
Vallet park on some loc shit
Whole lot of smoke in that 'Rari, that thing potent
Burning rubber, wearing cameras, they was undercovers
Under pressure, made statements, turned on they brothers
Never judge you, but the streets will never love you
I wonder what it come to in your brain for you run to
Ones that hate us and cuff us and mace us
Call us dumb niggas 'cause our culture is contagious
Third generation, South Central gang bangers
That live long enough to see it changing
Think it's time we make arrangements
Finally wiggle out they mazes
Find me out in different places
And 'The Spook By The Door' this the infiltration
Double back, dressed in blue laces

They killed Dr. Sebi, he was teaching health
I f*ck with Rick Ross 'cause he teaching wealth
Dropped out of school, I'ma teach myself
Made my first mil' on my own, I don't need your help
All black Tom Ford, it's a special evening
City council meeting, they got Hussle speaking
Billion dollar project 'bout to crack the cement
So one of our investments had become strategic
Summer roll '18, man it's such a season
'Bout to make my partners look like f*ckin' geniuses
We was in the Regal, it was me and Steven
We done took a dream and turned it to a zenith
Anything I wanted and everything I needed
Gotta pace yourself, it's all about yo' breathing
You can have it all, it's all about your reason
I done took my name and carved it in the cement

I flashback on that shootout at the beach
Twenty deep, you tried to squeeze, your gun jammed and they released
Blood on your tee, how many stains? I see three
The bitch started to panic so I made her switch seats
Driving now, police chopper ahead flying now
Really not too spooked calmly asked me "am I dying now?"
All I know is keep you calm and collected
Cracking jokes like "nigga, now you gon' be finally respected"
See your blood leaking, got my foot on this gas
Tossed the forty, we pull up to Daniel free as he crash
You know the alibi
They started shooting, we was standing by
Ain't see nothing, but the flare from the talons fly
I wasn't there, I was passing by
Matter fact, don't say shit, I'm just gon' drop you in the back and slide
That's yo weed, all the cash is mine
I took 'em both to the spot plus your phone 'til you back online
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Asghedom, John Wesley Groover, Larrance Levar Dopson, Leroy Williams, Michael Ray Jr. Cox, Willie Hutch
Copyright: Lyrics © GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC, CTM Outlander Music LC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Hussle and Motivate

Pull up in motorcades, I got a show today
It's all I'm tryna do, hustle and motivate
Choppers a throwaway, hustle the Hova way
That's why they follow me, huh, they think I know the way
'Cause I took control of things, balling the solo way
And if you pattern my trend, I'll make you my protege
Slauson Ave. Soldier raised, niggas don't know them days
Take you in back of the buildings, make you expose your rage
Take you across the tracks, make you explode a face
Now you official now, but you got a soul to save
I just been cooking that new, I'm 'bout to drop in a few
Think if I call it the great, the people gon' call it the truth
Ain't really trip on the credit, I just paid all of my dues
I just respected the game, now my name all in the news
Tripping on all of my moves, quote me on this, got a lot more to prove
Remember I came in this bitch, fresh out the county with nothing to lose

Nigga I don't do this for nothing, no
From the ground up, yeah
Well, I don't do this shit for nothing, no
Not at all, yeah
My momma need rent, yeah, yeah she do, all year long
So I don't do this shit for nothing, no, not at all, all
I told her I got it, yeah
So I don't do this shit for nothing, not at all
From the ground up
Hustle and motivate

Back in this bitch like I never left
Stand for some shit that you never rep
Passing through stages in life, through the ups and downs
Like it's all just another test
Live by the rules like a f*cking ref
I got respect in a hundred sets
Too many chains, need another chest
Playing no games if it wasn't chess
Cut from that cloth that you couldn't stretch
Cut from that serpent you couldn't test
Heavily pressured and under stressed
Even though niggas ain't show up, it was a mess
Honest and template to the left
Judge a young nigga by they address
Left us no option, what they expect?
Only thing we knew for sure was to bang the set
F*ck living basic, I'm taking risks
F*ck what they saying, I'm saying this
Don't waste your time, it don't make you rich, it don't mean nothing
So f*ck 'em so let's make a grip
Double up, triple up, make assist
Balling so hard, you could play your bitch
Lead to the lake, if they wanna fish
Make sure them niggas around you stick to the script
This should be written in stone
You should come visit my zone
Don't take my word, double check all of my flows
Ask 'em how Hussle got on, but f*ck what you heard
This is for everybody who walked down that road
Sold everything but they soul
Straight off the curb, real niggas rich as you nerds
Addressed to whom it may concern

I don't do this for nothing, no
From the ground up, yeah
Well, I don't do this shit for nothing, no
Not at all, yeah
My momma need rent, yeah, yeah she do, all year long
So I don't do this shit for nothing, no, not at all
I told her I got it, yeah
So I don't do this shit for nothing, not at all
From the ground up
Hustle and motivate

Hustle and motivate (cut the bass out)
Hustle and mo'
Hustle and mo'
Hustle and motivate
All Money In, nigga
Hustle and mo'
Hustle and mo'
Hustle and mo'
Hustle and motivate
(Victory Lap)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: NIPSEY HUSSLE, CHARLES STROUSE, MARK HOWARD JAMES, MARTIN CHARNIN, SHAWN C. CARTER, ASKIA FOUNTAIN, DERRICK OKOTH, JAMES GROOVER, MARK JAMES, MARTIN CHARMIN, MAURICE WADE, MICHAEL COX, SHAWN CARTER, TORRENCE ESMOND, ERMIAS JOSEPH ASGHEDOM
Copyright: Lyrics © THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Royalty Network, O/B/O CAPASSO, Peermusic Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Status Symbol 3

Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot where I was going
I been driving, I been smoking
Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot what I was drinking
What the hell have I been thinking

Now I'm just riding through the city
Now I'm just riding through the city
And ain't nobody rolling with me
And ain't nobody rolling with me
It ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it
It ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it
This is a trip, trip, trip, trip
Riding 'round smoking by myself
Don't you know I do it so well
Dollar signs all on my head
Rolling solo dolo, this a trip, trip, trip

Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot where I was going
I been driving, I been smoking
Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot what I was drinking
What the hell have I been thinking

Rapping for my section
Roll with my protection
Who gon' die next?
Ain't tryna get elected
Riding by myself, time for some reflection
I feel like a young boss nigga that's thankful for his blessings
I can't even lie, I ain't even flexing
Block for me black man, know they tryna stretch us
I ain't tryna preach, I ain't tryna lecture
When you make your first mil' in cash, you gon' feel the pressure
Just wanna feel the thrill
Wanna feel the texture
Wanna feel the drop top breeze
Wanna feel successful
Wanna change the game
Never chase a message
Never stop grinding, cherish no possessions
We ain't get accepted, we're just reinvested
Things that I expected 'cause we ain't even set trip
60th to Megan, choppers for protection
FBI invests us, but they can't arrest us
Almost (almost)

Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot where I was going
I been driving, I been smoking
Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot what I was drinking
What the hell have I been thinking

Now I'm just riding through the city
Now I'm just riding through the city
And ain't nobody rolling with me
And ain't nobody rolling with me
It ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it
It ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it
This is a trip, trip, trip, trip
Riding 'round smoking by myself
Don't you know I do it so well
Dollar signs all on my head
Rolling solo dolo, this a trip, trip, trip

Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot where I was going
I been driving, I been smoking
Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot what I was drinking
What the hell have I been thinking

Now I'm swerving, yeah I'm swerving
Now I'm spluring, yeah I'm splurging
On purpose, on purpose
It's a trip, trip, trip
Turn the headphones up for me G
Little bit lower

Yeah, always had the passion, nigga this a classic
How we came from nothing, went and got established
Livin' like a savage, tryna make some magic
Everybody stalling, tryna taste the sandwich
I know it's elaborate, a nigga just imagined
Felt the right to ask it
We can make it happen, weaving through the traffic
I can take you back then
Everything I said I meant, I was never cappin'
I was never scared to stand, front line with MAC 10's
Raise and shoot at black men, never felt the satisfaction
When I seen the game collapsing, guess they took the rules and wacked it
Started moving at a different frequency and it got me living lavish
All my partners steady passing, tryna wigle through this madness
Tryna fight this gravity at time and I swear it pull me backwards
Putting thousands on they caskets, tryna pick the right reactions
I appreciate the progress, but I'm so conflict about the status

Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot where I was going
I been driving, I been smoking
Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot what I was drinking
What the hell have I been thinking

Now I'm just riding through the city
Now I'm just riding through the city
And ain't nobody rolling with me
And ain't nobody rolling with me
It ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it
It ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it
This is a trip, trip, trip, trip
Riding 'round smoking by myself
Don't you know I do it so well
Dollar signs all on my head
Rolling solo dolo, this a trip, trip, trip, trip

Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot where I was going
I been driving, I been smoking
Almost forgot what I was doing
Almost forgot what I was drinking
What the hell have I been thinking
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Asghedom, John Wesley Groover, M. Johnson, Michael Ray Jr. Cox, Simmie Sims
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Succa Proof

Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof

Look, I don't f*ck what you niggas done
I don't give a f*ck where you niggas from
For you and your mouth go and get a gun
Leave you slumped on the scene, that's a hit and run
Oh y'all Bloods, oh y'all Crips now
F*ck it, I'm big draws, I'm J. Prince now
I frontline wars we can't fix now
Bought latex gloves, that's no prints now
If you broke bread, you got chip now
Couple things you can't buy inside this town
Loyalty, love, and respect
And niggas really 'stort you out your check

Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof

Look, I don't give a f*ck how you niggas feel
I can tell the fake, I can take the real
Got a purple heart out the battlefield
Now watch me levitate to a hundred mil'
F*ck a pound, nigga, f*ck a pill
I negotiated a better deal
F*ck around, nigga, yes I will
Take a life 'fore I take an L
Time to even out the playing field
'Cause niggas wasn't playing fair
I'm solo and still made it here
Rich real nigga, ask yo bitch how that make her feel
Bang

Original badmon
Touch di road and tear couple tousand
Dese streets dem ah our own
Ain't no love fi drop pon di streets man ah send you home
It get hotta den a toasta
Can't violate Rvssian and Cosa
Boi dis Nipsey Hussle
Exercise mi trigger finger muscle

Gang gang, money, violence the shit so dangerson
You know the lifestyle dangerous
Oh yeah, those colors so dangerous, Lord
Money, the fame, and the power, shit so dangerous
And with these bitches so dangerous
You know the streets so dangerous, Lord

Who's the badmon? Who can draw?

Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
Pop at you lames 'cause I'm succa proof
Don't play no games, boy I'm busta proof
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Joseph Asghedom, Michael Cox, Larrance Dopson, Khalil Abdul-Rahman, John Groover, Jeret Griffin-Black, Garnett Flynn
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O CAPASSO, Peermusic Publishing






Keyz 2 The City 2

Rollin' up some good
Pourin' up 'til we get faded
You know how we do it
Everybody takin' flicks of me
I got the keys to the city
I don't need no limousine
I turn out when I pull up
And tell my booking agent book a show
Runnin' 'round with the paper bag
Runnin' 'round with the paper bag
Goin' crazy spendin' all this cash
Goin' crazy spendin' all this cash
If I spend it I'ma get it back
Even when I'm ridin' 'round dirty
A nigga don't need a seatbelt
A nigga don't need a seatbelt
Nah it don't cost to keep it real
Run up get done up
Shit can get real
F*ck around and get your ass robbed
Nigga f*ck around and tell you shit
Got ya askin' God why
Drag your ass into a alley
Pull out aim for the target
Should've never been around the killers
In my town we the f*ckin' realest
Don't try the boss 'round here
I get to sprayin' they gon' get down
Ski mask over my face
Catch a body in broad day
Catch a body in broad day

I got the key to the city
I got a hoe that's saddity
Talk to that bitch in Swahili
Tattoo my name in graffiti
Wack at your hood in graffiti
Come through your hood on the weekly
None of y'all niggas can see me
None of y'all niggas can see me

Y'all ain't got nothin' like this over there
Bunch of front line millionaires
Bunch of self made, out the trunk paid, against the odds really took it there
Any problem I'ma reappear
Wit a squad, you already fear
All this time I've been playing fair
Seven digits every single year
Niggas died, niggas disappear
Alibi's I was really there
Life of crime 'til I get the chair
Columbine in my trigger hair
Still I rise and I took the stairs
Feel the fire it's a different glare
All these fights, it was never fair
Bustin' knuckles 'til I'm swinging fierce
Face is swollen, some I'm drippin' tears
You should know I never had a fear
You should know I never had a shot
Never had a chance, still I took it here
Manage pride but I see it clear
Strategize, I'm a engineer
Pick a side, gotta keep it there
Switchin' up nigga, lookin' weird

I got the key to the city
I got a hoe that's saddity
Talk to that bitch in Swahili
Tattoo my name in graffiti
Wack at your hood in graffiti
Come through your hood on the weekly
None of y'all niggas can see me
None of y'all niggas can see me

Tappin in', say they waitin' for it
Tell the streets a nigga back again
Ridin' round inside the back again
Rollin' flight inside the back again
405 another traffic jam
Improvise another master plan
Sit outside a nigga feel me pad
Another seven grams inside a sandwich bag
My whole life is like a balance act
People's champ but could you handle that
I pull up inside the black on black and park this big ass Benz inside the handicap
What I done, they can't imagine that
One of one, it's like a magic trick
Matter fact, it's like a lotto pick
It's why I gotta talk a lot of shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Travis Walton, Christian Joel Jones, Jacob Dutton, Michael Ray Cox, John Goover, Ermias Joseph Asghedom
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, O/B/O CAPASSO, Peermusic Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Grinding All My Life

All my life, been grindin' all my life
Sacrificed, hustle paid the price
Want a slice? Got to roll the dice
That's why, all my life, I been grindin' all my life
Look, all my life, been grindin' all my life (yeah)
Sacrificed, hustle paid the price (whoa)
Want a slice? Got to roll the dice
That's why, all my life, I been grindin' all my life

Look, I'm married to this game, that's who I made my wife
Said I'll die alone, I told that bitch she prolly right
One thing that's for sure, not a stranger to this life
Got a safe that's full of Franklins and a shoulder full of stripes (ah)
I don't know a nigga like myself
I say self made, meanin' I designed myself
County jail fade, you can pull my file yourself
Spot raid, swallow rocks, I'm gettin' high myself
Look, damn right, I like the life I built
I'm from west side, 60, shit, I might got killed
Standin' so tall, they think I might got stilts
Legendary baller, like Mike, like Wilt
'96 Impala, thug life on wheels
Up against the walls, squabble at Fox Hills
Like a motherf*ckin' boss, ask me how I feel
Successful street nigga touchin' them first mils (whoa)

All my life, been grindin' all my life
Sacrificed, hustle paid the price
Want a slice? Got to roll the dice
That's why, all my life, I been grindin' all my life
Look, all my life, been grindin' all my life (yeah)
Sacrificed, hustle paid the price (whoa)
Want a slice? Got to roll the dice
That's why, all my life, I been grindin' all my life

Look, I got everythin' I said I was gon' get on my kid
In addition to that fact, I went legit, I'm the shit
Now accordin' to the way that I'm positioned in this biz
It look like I'm just gon' keep on gettin' rich (ah)
Know that West Side RSCs is us
LAPD on my dick, I'ma squeeze and bust
If a rap nigga diss, swiss cheese his bus
All this rap money, nigga, look I need too much
Money, loyalty and love, in the dream we trust
You be switchin' up the players on your team too much
Tiny Cobby, that's my Loc, Young Supreme, what's up?
Ain't we travel 'round the world gettin' cream or what?
Ain't you get off on whoever Hussle seem to rush?
Las Vegas, strip pop, yeah, you creamed them punks
After all that lookin' tough, all he seen was stomps
50 Cent and Mayweather fleed the scene with us, true story

All my life, been grindin' all my life
Sacrificed, hustle paid the price
Want a slice? Got to roll the dice
That's why, all my life, I been grindin' all my life
Look, all my life, been grindin' all my life (yeah)
Sacrificed, hustle paid the price (whoa)
Want a slice? Got to roll the dice
That's why, all my life, I been grindin' all my life, look
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Askia Fountain, Ermias Joseph Asghedom, Shane Lee Lindstrom, Steven P. Carless, STEVEN P CARLESS
Copyright: Lyrics © Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Million While You Young

And I'm actually gonna get right into it
And your really wanna know how
You know how can I blaze my own path
How can I be successful
How can I follow the path that someone else has laid for me to be successful

I'm sitting on Dueces while the blunt burn
Still raping rap music 'cause I want more
All Money In, it's just us four
It's just Cobby, it's just Harvee
It's just Rimpau, it's just Adam
It's just Blac Sam and Bolt da Fatts
Where your 600 Benz, where your Rovers at?
Where your Cuban links?
Nigga, where your Rollies at?
Where your big booty bad bitches staple posters at?
Where you hustle? Where you run from the police at?
Where you ever represented hope where the hopeless at?
Where you had to take an oath fore you sold a sack?
Dealt with all the pressure played it like you never noticed that
Amongst it all, put yourself on the map
Turned into a booming operation
Where your focus at?
Where your 600 Benz, where your Rovers at?
Where your Cuban link?
Nigga, where your Rollie at?

I would rather shoot before I run
Pressure on my shoulder weigh a ton
You should try to do what we done
Make a million dollars while you young
I would rather shoot before I run
Pressure on my shoulder weigh a ton
You should try to do what we done
Make a million dollars while you young

So if you can tell us how exactly and what deal you did to make a million dollars

I can tell you niggas how I came up
Similar to climbing out the grave, huh
Can't be actin' like a bitch tryna get saved bruh
Get that dirt up off your shoulder step yo game up
Can't be chasing pussy switch your ways up
Can't be f*ckin' off your lucci gotta save up
See you gon' probably fail tryna play us
Streets ain't for everybody, get your grades up
Ain't bout your money you just lookin' for a stage huh
And all that stuntin' put a bullet in your brain, huh?
Stupid ass nigga you can't fade us
Niggas like pfft who even raised cuz
Where you come from?
Where you get your name from?
You was in the house, now with the runaway slaves, huh?
You ain't never in the spot when they raid huh?
You ain't really bout it lil nigga this a phase huh?

I would rather shoot before I run
Pressure on my shoulder weigh a ton
You should try to do what we done
Make a million dollars while you young
I would rather shoot before I run
Pressure on my shoulder weigh a ton
You should try to do what we done
Make a million dollars while you young

Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
I know to you it looks easy
Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
This shit ain't easy believe me
Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
I know to you it looks easy
Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
This shit ain't easy believe me

Self made self made nigga really self made
And I don't never understand the type of games you niggas play
Westside to the westside Atlanta until I die
F*ck with my nigga Nipsey best believe a nigga gon' ride

Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
I know to you it looks easy
Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
But this shit ain't easy believe me
Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
I know to you it looks easy
Tell me why you mad for
Tell me why you mad
But this shit ain't easy believe me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Amaire Johnson, Ermias Asghedom, Jacob Dutton, James Groover, LaMar Edwards, Michael Cox Jr., Robert Mandell, Terius Nash
Copyright: Lyrics © CTM Outlander Music LC, Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Loaded Bases

Loaded bases that's my motivation
Niggas feelin' lucky, we should go to Vegas
2018 mode of transportation
Got me feelin' over-anxious like a home invasion
My dough inflated and I'm more creative
Signed to cover big deals, but it's no parading
See it's a couple niggas every generation
I wasn't supposed to make it out, but decode the Matrix
And when they get to speak, it's like a coded language
Reminds niggas it ain't strength in all this stolen greatness
We used to shoot at niggas' at the Mobil station
Full circle, mogul motivation
My, self-educated, suit, negotiations
Got these sharks that I'm sitting at this table with afraid to bait me
No tint on my Mercedes, that's for inspiration
Two kilos on my neck, like the f*ckin' 80's
Boy south Slauson Ave know my demosntration
Born and raised y'all affiliated
This is really greatness
Riding around like I really made it
Loaded bases I'm gon' Willy Mason

Listen to my ambition 'cause I'm on one
Swingin' for the fences for the home run
Even further beyond in to the universe
But I got to make it to first, first
It feels like every second is being stolen
I risk it for every ticket, we sold them
You got the ball, I'mma take it home
But I'm lyin', I'm gon' make it home

I was sitting on my Lincoln, I start thinkin'
Nigga, I ain't gon' make a hundred mil' off in these streets and
More than likely I'm gon' end up in somebody's precinct
Even worse, horse and carriage front the church, laid off in a hearse
I dealt with it
I ain't just out here for my health with it
I weighed the risk and the reward ain't seen the scale tippin'
Let's all get on one accord and take the world niggas
Take the money, take the power and the girls with us
Can't buy that bullshit that they sell niggas
Bring drugs heads and jail niggas
Look all these ways they derail niggas
That's why respect me to the utmost when you seen just how I feel niggas
'Cause I ain't fail niggas
I seen it coming, "didn't I tell niggas?"
Different lane, same passion for the mail niggas
Switch lanes, all black, two glass ceilings
V-12 too fast nigga, gone

Listen to my ambition 'cause I'm on one
Swingin' for the fences for the home run
Even further beyond in to the universe
But I got to make it to first, first
It feels like every second is being stolen
I risk it for every ticket we sold them
You got the ball, I'mma take it home
But I'm lyin', I'm gon' make it home
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Joseph Asghedom, Jacob Brian Dutton, Larrance Levar Dopson, Thomas Decarlo Callaway
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Real Big

Real big, real big
I knew one day I would do it real big
Real shit, real shit
I know all my real niggas feel this
Night time, locs on
Can't even see the stars, but we still wish
Real shit, real shit
Who would've ever thought we'd build this

Tryna walk to school get your jaw socked
Tryna pump your gas, get your car shot
Large profit margin on the long shots
Cause young niggas rarely make it off of our block
Night time, locs on
F*ckin' young bitches while they folks home
High school, didn't go
Couldn't understand my plan, now you niggas know
Self made, well paid
I'm from where they tell you never touch the shell case
I'm from where they teach you never trust a pale face
This top bangin' I can tell you bout a field race
Real shit, real shit, I know all my real niggas feel this
Night time, locs on
F*ckin' young bitches while they folks home

Real big, real big
I knew one day I would do it real big
Real shit, real shit
I know all my real niggas feel this
Night time, locs on
Can't even see the stars, but we still wish
Real shit, real shit
Who would've ever thought we'd build this

Sold out shows that's a door split
Niggas ain't show up, that's a forfeit
Left my record label, just got more rich
I switched it up, that's me singin' on the chorus
But still I spit bars so gutter
Drive cars, no stutter
Top floor, no clutter
Hardwood floors though
White wall, that's where my awards go
Runnin' from the law, till they foreclose
Sit wit myself when them doors close
Sometimes I got a question, only lord knows
When I be going out in Copenhagen, spendin' euros
Night time, locs on
Do it big nigga till my Locs home
Real shit, real shit, I know all my real niggas feel this

Real big, real big
I knew one day I would do it real big
Real shit, real shit
I know all my real niggas feel this
Night time, locs on
Can't even see the stars, but we still wish
Real shit, real shit
Who would've ever thought that we would build this

If I could stay in this moment, I would, forever
If I could live in this moment, said I would, forever

Real shit, real shit
Yeah, yeah
If I could give you the stars baby, I would
Wanna last and share in this moment baby
And now I'd give you the stars baby, I would

Real big, real big
I knew one day I would do it real big
Real shit, real shit
I know all my real niggas feel this
Night time, locs on
Can't even see the stars, but we still wish
Real shit, real shit
Who would've ever thought that we would build this
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alexandria Dopson, Ermias Asghedom, John Groover, Larrance Dopson, Marsha Ambrosius, Michael Cox Jr., Rebekah Muhammad
Copyright: Lyrics © CTM Outlander Music LC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Double Up

Double up, three or four times I ain't tellin' no lies
I just run it up, never let a hard time humble us
Double up, I ain't tellin' no lies, I just (yeah)
I ain't tellin' no lies, I just
Five, four, three, two, that's time, I got
To you, that money
My dreams come true
My life in diamonds
Who knew?
Who knew?
Who knew?

Turned seven to a fourteen
Fourteen to a whole thing
Lord knows it's a cold game
Switched up on you hoes, man
Big body take both lanes
Backseat, blowin' propane
All black, five gold chains
Young rich nigga bossed up on his own, man
My new shit sound like it's Soul Train
Tookie Williams over Coltrane
Eric B by the rope chain
R-S-C, we fosho bang
Tiny Locs and they go crazy
What you know about the dope game?
Was you born in the 80s?
Did your mama smoke cocaine?
Have you ever seen a whole thang?
Was you drove to the streets
'Cause you grew up on short change?
F*cked up when the dope age
It remind me when these rappers drop duds and they quotes change
Had the part wit the low fade
I would stand in front of Nick's wit' my sack for the whole day
Drive-by's, that was road rage
Then we park and hop out
Learn levels to this whole thang
Old school, play the O'Jays
Tryna make a slow change
Mama still slavin' for a low wage, tryna

Double up (yeah), three or four times, I ain't tellin' no lies
I just run it up, never let a hard time humble us
Double up, I ain't tellin' no lies, I just (yeah)
I ain't tellin' no lies, I just
Five, four, three, two, that's time, I got
To you, that money
My dreams come true
My life in diamonds
Who knew?
Who knew?
Who knew?

I'd leave it behind if you let me
Ironic, I'd drown just to hold you down
I jump off the ledge if you with me
I bring you up, you just let me down
Let me down (uh, let me down)
Need my "All Money In" chain too
Let me down (woah) (let me down)

It's hard to catch what you can't see
I grew up to be who I wanna be
So, the more niggas talk I'ma shine
Might of been way before its time
Posted wit my back against the wall
Life is a bitch but she mine
The rag six deuce, yeah, it's mine
The Westside too, yeah, it's mine
What you know about
Your poster on the wall at the dealership?
Leave her in the bed, legs tremblin'
Gettin' banged on for your Pendletons
What you know about
Your response be the reason you exist?
Lucky I ain't get caught up in the twist
Young nigga blue pager on my hip, so
As the champagne spill
And the car accelerate
And the beat gon' cry
I be goin' to the bank at least three, four times
Gettin' handshakes from the branch managers
We keep doin' fly shit when the camera's cut

Double up (yeah), three or four times, I ain't tellin' no lies
I just run it up, never let a hard time humble us
Double up, I ain't tellin' no lies, I just (yeah)
I ain't tellin' no lies, I just
Five, four, three, two, that's time, I got
To you, that money
My dreams come true
My life in diamonds
Who knew?
Who knew?
Who knew?

I'd leave it behind if you let me
Ironic, I'd drown just to hold you down
I jump off the ledge if you with me
I bring you up, you just let me down
Let me down (let me down)
Let me down (let me down, look out, look out)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ahmad Balshe, Alexander Chigbue, Axel Morgan, Dominic Hunn, Ermias Asghedom, Teddy Walton
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing, Peermusic Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Right Hand 2 God

I put my right hand to God
Shine on these broads
Stay on my job, grind with my squad
Hundred racks on my car, no license at all
No tint on that thing, nigga, 'cause that's how we ball
All these f*ck niggas' flawed, suckas' and frauds
My circle so small, stick to my script and just ball
First, I pick up my bitch, and we shut down the mall
Had to pick up the tip, she tried to pay for it all
Bring some Yac' with my plate, garlic noodles and steak
Bouncin' out the ballet, with all these tats' on my face
People looking like, "hey!", black nigga' stay in your place
But it's some shit they gon' think, and it's some shit they gon' say
Got to a brick from an eighth
See that music's my fate
Switched it out from out my trunk, went to the top of my state
And I Versace'd my waist, like 2Pac in his hey'
Brian Williams, how I built this All Money Estate, quote

I put my right hand to God
I put my right hand to God

Put my right hand to Jesus
Fly like a eagle
Fight with these demons, shine light on my people
This life is a free throw, success is a kilo
My wife is a c-note, but my mistress is Creole
I sip on that Clicquot, while I'm banging that Z-Ro
Ghetto nigga' like Cheeto's, that got more famous than Cee-lo
Turn legit from illegal, just like Pesci in Casino
Get JS off of prole, watch him blow up like C-4
I rose from a Regal, Auroras and Lincoln's
Low-pros on Alpina's, to German drop-top two seaters
Was young and prestigious, phone was matching my beeper
"How the f*ck you gon' reach him?", he makin' more than his teachers
Movin' forward with speed, all your morals'll leave
Only focus is cheese, now the forest is trees
Got infected with greed, distort what you see
Your worst nightmare than me, is justifying your means
Hold up!

Put my right hand to God
I put my right hand to God
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ermias Asghedom, David Camon, James Groover, LaMar Edwards, Larrance Dopson, Michael Cox Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Peermusic Publishing







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